


Sensory Nuances

by MuscleMemory



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: A prompt collection, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Coda, Emotions, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Parabatai Bond, Prompt Fill, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21769606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuscleMemory/pseuds/MuscleMemory
Summary: Prompt: Blood at the corner of your mouthCoda drabble to episode 3.10
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane & Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Camille Belcourt, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 49
Kudos: 107
Collections: Fluff vs. Angst Battle 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the prompt list [here](https://sfjessii.tumblr.com/post/189594388840/64-sensory-prompts)
> 
> I have five left to write, if/when I manage, and if anyone wants to send me another number, feel free, just know it could take months or not happen at all if I just don't get inspiration for something, but I will try. 
> 
> These are sometimes betaed and sometimes not, mistakes are mine in any case.

Their voices sound muffled and contorted. He can feel the cold adamas on his fingers as the stele is pressed into his hand, then Jace is gone, but he’s himself again, and that’s all that matters.

Stay with me, Alexander, please.

Magnus came back, at the last moment he got here to save his parabatai, and Alec raises his lips into a meek smile, because now everything will turn out okay. 

He coughs, the foreign object stuck inside his chest ripping further into his tendons, and flesh, reminding him of the dolorous pain he’s in as more blood swells up, staining his skin through his clothes. 

Pierced by his own arrow. 

He can also feel it inside, flowing, worming its way through his chest and lung, into his throat, like a substantive entity, a thick, hot liquid, throttling his airway, overwhelming his sense of taste and smell, filling up his mouth until it doesn’t have anywhere to go, but spill over.

He coughs again, spitting red splotches, a string of hot fluid streaming from the corner of his mouth, along his chin and throat, warm and slick, more following, his stomach constricting with queasiness, his swallowing reflex forcing the coppery substance back down his throat, mingling with the blood running upward - no way to go, but out. 

He can’t get enough air in through his nose, his mouth blocked, overflowing with the blood that doesn’t belong, his fingers tightly wound around the adamas, and Magnus’ hand on his, his broken bones a foreign, dully thudding ache, and he’s trying to focus, to stay grounded, to not lose consciousness.

His eyesight gets blurry as he glimpses Magnus holding a phone to his ear, his voice sounding far away, his face tinted in dire urgency, and Alec wonders what happened to make him so, his mind’s panic replaced by sluggish haziness, before his eyelids shut, too heavy to lift up. 

His head falls to the side, the blood in the crook of his neck making an obnoxious squishy sound, still trying to breathe, he hears his name, spoken desperately by a beloved voice. He cannot answer, dark nothingness claiming him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: The feel of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade 
> 
> Turned into a battle, injuries, h/c

It was after they encountered two dozen Kuri demons on their patrol that Jace and Alec sent right back to hell, when they were ambushed by some of Lilith’s new creations she managed to break through the magic barrier, banning her and Asmodeus from entering earth again - for the time being. 

Sharp teeth and claws were surrounding them, the demons’ snarls and glowing red eyes intending to kill, and though the Shadowhunters hoped reinforcements were on the way, the sheer amount they were outnumbered by was perilous at best. 

They fought back to back, dismissing previous exhaustion, their bond guiding them without needing words, knowing where the other would step, and stab, before it happened, allowing them to duck, leap aside, or jump without getting accidentally hurt by each other.

What neither of them could have foreseen was the largest demon suddenly ripping its body apart, freeing big, bat-like wings with sharp edges and claws, tearing towards them with inhuman speed and fierceness, slaying fellow demons that turned to ichor and ashes, its wings bashing around to draw blood. 

Jace hauled himself in front of Alec, seraph blades held high to bring them forcefully down in the beast’s face, when it suddenly changed direction, his wing coming down hard against Jace’s chest, slicing through his jacket, skin, and flesh in a long gash, bringing him to his knees, screaming.

Alec tried and failed to stick an arrow in the demon’s head, merely distracting it for a moment. He rushed back to Jace’s side, sensing his pain and rage, and turned towards him in a flash, trying to shield his wounded Parabatai, his eyes wide as he glanced back, spotting the demon attacking again, his body moving speedily but not fast enough to avoid the claw piercing his shoulder, cutting messily across his shoulder blade towards his spine, before Jace got chance to grab him and haul him down and away. Both stunned and wounded, they got back onto their feet, blades drawn, when they were blinded by sudden bright light.

When they dared open their eyes again, the demon was gone, as was the rest of them, ashes flowing in the air, ichor splashed on the ground, mingling with the snowflakes they hadn’t noticed falling from the sky. 

Clary and Izzy came rushing towards them, eyes wide with shock and worry, immediately getting their steles to activate the Parabatai’s Iratzes, supporting the men between them while Clary opened a portal back to the Institute. 

*

Faint voices slither in and out of his consciousness, until he blinks his eyes open. He’s lying on his front, on white linen, one of the Institute’s beds, something slung around his naked torso he recognizes as a bandage, his cheek pressed into a flat pillow.

He moves his arms to prop himself up, but a voice catches him.

“Hey, easy.” 

He recognizes Magnus, relaxes, and seeks out his face near him as he’s crouching down beside him. He can feel Magnus’ fingers gliding over his bare shoulder, goosebumps gingerly appearing.

Magnus’ business attire reminds him that he was meeting a client in a foreign country he can’t remember today, and he wasn’t going to come back until tomorrow. 

Memories as to why he must have come rushing back, making him feel nauseous. 

“Alexander, it’s okay, breathe through it. Cat gave you a potion for the pain, but it makes one a little woozy, but you’ll be fine.” 

Alec takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, his senses focusing on Magnus’ hand on his shoulder, soft, warm fingers tracing the skin of his protruding bone, and around it, in gentle motions, a soft tickle layering his skin soothingly.

“You were very lucky tonight. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” He whispers, the tingling sensation on Alec’s skin, and inside his chest, shadowed by gnawing guilt. 

He opens his eyes, locked on Magnus’. “Hey, it’s not your fault. We were ambushed… Jace?” He suddenly remembers the demon cutting him down, his wound worse than his own.

“Is recovering, don’t worry. Clary took him up to their bedroom, and Cat thoroughly examined him. But you better tell him to wait until he can partake in any kind of strenuous activities again for at least a few days, he’ll listen to you.” 

Alec raises an eyebrow doubtfully. “You think?” 

Magnus smiles curtly, and nods. “And you, too. That demon wasn’t a joke, but a deadly weapon, and if Clary and Isabelle hadn’t reached you in time-” 

Alec strains his neck and moves his arm, his hand cradling Magnus’ face. “Shh, we’re okay, and I’m really glad they got there when they did, too, and we really need to find out how they got through and make sure that won’t happen again, but as long as Asmodeus and Lilith are working together, they won’t stop trying.” 

Magnus leans into the touch, covering Alec’s hand with his own. “I know, and I- we will find a way to stop them once and for all.” 

Alec smiles softly and nods, meeting Magnus as he moves closer to kiss him, their lips lingering for a long moment, unspoken gratitude, relief, and love filling their hearts.

He wakes up lying on his front, on blue silk sheets caressing his skin, a fresh bandage around his torso and back, his wound healing well. 

He’s about to shift his head when he freezes, then closes his eyes emitting an alleviated sigh after realizing Magnus’ lips are pressed to his shoulder. They dance over his skin, kiss by tender kiss, a couple of fingers joining them, carding along the bone of his shoulder blade, delicate pinpricks mixing with featherlight tingles, and he knows there’s light blue magic on the tip of Magnus’ fingers, soothing the soreness in his muscles, and mellowing the sorrow in his emotions. 

Magnus’ fingers and lips move along his skin with genuine care, and Alec gives into the moment, Magnus’ past words ever present inside his heart and mind, always reminding him that this is what they’re fighting for, and always will be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the sensory prompt: 55. Finding old photographs you’d forgotten about
> 
> Coda for S2, ex CamillexMagnus/Malec 
> 
> After surrendering her to the Clave, Magnus goes back to India one last time.

He hadn’t planned on going back to India, not any time soon, not to  _ her _ lair of all places. It’s been five days since he surrendered her to the Clave, four nights he spent seeing her face, warped with rage, disbelief, and honest fear. 

He doesn’t regret it, she was out of control, like she’s been so often, probably ever since he’s known her, but, this time, he couldn’t watch idly any longer. 

It’s been tearing him apart, and he will have to handle overcoming the guilt and regret he’s been feeling. It was the right thing to do, but more often than not, even the right things cut into you and eat away at you. 

It looks just like he was here last time with Simon, when he found the  _ keris. _ He was numb with the shock of betrayal at her having taken it. She always took whatever she wanted for whatever twisted reason. He found that quickly into their relationship, and, yet, sometimes she surprised him; sadly, in bad ways more than in good.

He isn’t sure what he’s looking for exactly, as he slowly strides through the room, taking in the most exquisite, costly treasures. He remembers when and where she got some of these, but they leave no desire in his heart to own them, or reminisce. 

His gaze drops, a casket made of gold and black velvet, engaging his attention, and he halts, reaches for it, his eyes lingering on the beautiful piece as he’s holding it delicately in his hands. His thumb slides along the edge, feeling a tiny bump on the smooth surface, and it snaps open. 

He expected jewelry, gemstones, or gold coins, but instead, he’s staring at a faded brown photograph of himself and Camille he had forgotten about. 

Involuntarily, his mind reaches for the memories, the smell of cigars, alcohol, and sweet perfume wafting in his nose, the sound of laughter, foreign accents, and dancing music sounding in his ears, the taste of her lipstick and brandy on his tongue, and he closes his eyes, and for a moment, he can see her by the bar, dressed in a beautiful red gown, smiling at half a dozen admirers crowding in on her, until something in her gaze shifts, and he knows she knows he’s watching her, goosebumps crawling over his skin, and her eyes settle on him, pulling him, keeping him captive, binding his heart and soul by an invisible chord, and she holds out her hand, knowing he will take it, kiss it, and dance the night away with her, do anything she wants, even if it’s to take those men to bed with them.

He gasps as his eyes snap open, his heart pounding unsettled against his ribcage, his fingers shaky as he focuses on the picture again, his body swaying slightly as if he were vertiginous. Sometimes he cannot recall a part of his life no matter how hard he’s trying to remember, and sometimes, it overpowers him as if he had stepped back in time. 

He lets go of the picture, and looks through the others, remembering most of them being taken, his mind more eager to try and figure out why she would keep them. She was never as sentimental as him, never dwelling on the past, on feelings.  _ They’re fleeting and a handicap, after all.  _ Except whenever his feelings benefitted her in some way, or helped her out of a bad fix.

Once, he believed he was who she wanted,  _ all  _ she wanted, and he let her sweet, poisonous tongue draw him in, seduce him, manipulate him. But he’s fully aware of his own fault in it, he’s not innocent, he always had an inkling, unease roiling in his gut, but when you’re as old as him, as tired and lonely of the world, of lovers lost and battles fought and failed, you flock to familiarity, sameness, safety in immortality. Anything that excites your blood, that makes you feel  _ alive. _

Finally someone he fell in love with who was able to live for centuries with him, who wasn’t going to question why he didn’t age, or have to hide himself from. He really was that desperate, that weary of always being the one left behind. 

He took her in stride, drank and fucked the doubts away, the regrets, the voice inside him that warned him of her unforgiving, and ruthless nature, that he wouldn’t be enough, no matter if he became exactly what she wanted, because, truly, she was never content with what she had, or how many bodies lay in bed next to her, dead or alive, she always craved more. 

And for a time, he gave her more, he gave her everything, just for the glimpse of hope that he was special in her eyes. In a way, he guesses, he was, as well as exceedingly more foolish than those who gave up trying to win her ever changing game. 

If she had truly been the version he hoped her to be, would he have found himself that night on the bridge, at all? Would he not have had a reason to want to stay? She came and saved him, and he will be grateful eternally, but was it not fated as their lives’ mingling turned into a vicious, toxic, all consuming vacuum that carved him hollow? 

He doesn’t want to dwindle in those dark emotions of his past. He’s wiser now, understanding and accepting the course and deviations of his life for what they are - most of the time. And she’s gone now, leaving these possessions, and a wealth of memories for him to process - if he wants.

His hand is moving before his brain caught up with it, the soft vibrations of his phone inside the palm of his hand as his gaze shifts towards it, and his heart thuds palpably, a wave of a warm, prickling sensation ebbing throughout his body.  _ Alexander. _

A name his mind will never associate randomly again, an image of him sharpening before his eyes, not one, but a multitude, from the first time he saw him to the last time he looked into his eyes, just a day ago, before he left the loft for the Institute. Affectionate hazel eyes, void of any trace of virulence, seeing him, wanting him, making promises he’s not sure Alexander is aware of himself, yet, or knows how to put into words, but his eyes, and his heart are open to Magnus to do with as he pleases. 

Was that what  _ she  _ saw in him those centuries ago? An open, vulnerable heart, gullible and desperate to be loved, to wrap her claws around, take a hold of, and squeeze or relieve however she pleased? She drew blood more than once, almost left it bled-out and shrivelled, but her finest toxin was to breathe life back into him, just enough to spoof him, to assure his dependence and prevent him from leaving. 

He blinks the thought away, his lungs slowly filling with fresh air as he inhales. He is not like her. He will never treat  _ him,  _ or anyone else like that. And he knows Alexander is crassly different, has a pure, self-sacrificing heart, Magnus feels a bitter need to protect, no matter the cost to his own. He can’t help how he falls in love, swiftly and vehemently, caution strewn to the wind, even when his heart wanted a  _ Nephilim _ of all the creatures of heaven, earth, and hell. 

But against his own heart, he has always been hapless. 

Except, this time, something is unlike before. Something felt from inside the Shadowhunter, something Magnus hasn’t been able to grasp, yet. But he has a strong notion that he will, and pretending to be more guarded than he truly is, is a waste of strength he’ll need to figure this out, to figure  _ them _ out, but it’s what he wants, more than anything right now, even if that means being called upon at every hour by Shadowhunters that need his help. 

It’s Alexander’s world, and Magnus wants to be a part of it, for better or worse, he’s not sure, but he has a big, scarred heart, brimming with fragile, eager hope, and he wants to be with him, regardless.

He quickly swipes up the screen and brings the phone to his ear as he discards the casket, no longer interested in why she kept it. “Alexander, is everything alright?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Raindrops on eyelashes, malec fluff

The sudden bright colors are dizzying, forcing his eyelids shut, his thumb and forefinger pressing into his brow and temple. Portaling has rarely troubled him, but the headache and tension in his muscles he’s been carrying for days, have taken its toll.

“Are you okay?” 

He can feel Magnus’ fingers gently wrapping around his right wrist, his left hand falling from his face to his side as he blinks his eyes open, and turns to look at him. 

“Mh, yeah, it’s just a big change of staring at walls and screens for days, to this.” He glances sideways, and is met by vast green trees and hills below a marvelous blue sky, and he can hear water rushing somewhere close by. 

Magnus’ lips mold into a sweet, understanding smile as his fingers let go of Alec’s wrist to entwine their hands. 

“You feel disoriented.” He shifts to hook his chin over Alec’s shoulder, feeling him nod as he cocks his head to lean against Magnus’, a shuddering sigh easing through him. 

“Let’s just take a moment. Trust me, you need this, and I’ve wanted to take you here for a long time.” 

Alec can hear the smile in Magnus’ voice, loosening his disruptive thoughts, wondering why exactly he brought him to Hawaii today. 

“Okay, I’m good now.” He turns more to face Magnus, his free hand cradling around Magnus’ jaw as he gazes into his eyes.

“Sure?” 

Alec nods, a gentle smile tugging on his lips before they touch Magnus’, lingering there for a few moments of soft brushing and pulling, Magnus’ fingers in his hair sending a rush of shivers along his spine. 

The tip of his tongue is just running between Magnus’ lips to open them up, when he moves backwards, and Alec frowns as he opens his eyes. 

“We’ll have plenty more time for that, but right now, we need a change of clothes. May I?” 

Alec’s gaze shifts along Magnus’ black outfit, the coat definitely too hot for this climate, and his own jacket isn’t much airier. He nods and takes a step back, watching Magnus’ hand movement, light blue magic swirling around his fingers.

The transition still isn’t palpable to him, but the shorts and shirt he is now wearing are light and comfortable, and the warm breeze on his naked legs and arms is very pleasant, as well as being able to feel the grass under his feet and between his toes.

Magnus is wearing red shorts and a fitting red flower shirt, his hair softer and flatter, the smirk on his face endearing as well as suspicious. Alec looks down on himself and scoffs quietly as he realizes his shirt is fully open, exposing his chest and stomach, but he likes the blue flowers. 

“Why did you dress me at all?” He asks with a raised eyebrow as his fingers work swiftly to close the buttons of his shirt. 

“Is that a request?” 

Magnus’ eyes sparkle as he moves his hand as if to use his magic again, but Alec quickly grabs and holds it, their faces close enough to touch.

“No, not here. And you know I much prefer you undressing me without magic.” His voice sounds hoarse and intimately quiet, his eyes drawn to the movement of Magnus’ Adam’s apple, and the goosebumps appearing on the skin of his neck he’s undeniably tempted to latch his mouth onto, and draw more than a sweet moan from him. 

The shift and shine in Magnus’ eyes tell him he’s having similar thoughts of his own, but he chuckles softly, and averts his gaze, then turns towards their left, and takes Alec’s hand.

“Let me show you something else first.” 

They don’t have to walk for long until Alec notices the steepness of the hill they’re on, and spots the turquoise lake and large waterfall down below. 

“Wow, that’s some view.” 

Magnus grins at him. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Alec nods and gives him a lopsided grin, gesturing downwards. “So, how do we-” 

“Let me show you.” Magnus lets go of his hand, takes a few steps back, and to Alec’s surprise, takes a run-up and jumps straight down into the lake. 

Alec stares at the water splash where Magnus plunged, unable to suppress his smile when he surfaces, laughs and waves at him. 

“Be careful, I’m coming down!” He sprints back a few meters, then runs up to the cliff and jumps head first, his arms and legs stretched, the cool water hitting him with a force that shakes every cell in his body, and it’s a great feeling. 

He opens his eyes, amazed at how clear the water is, and dives up, wiping hair from his face as he looks around to find Magnus, and swims right up to him. 

“This is pretty cool.” He smiles and reaches for him.

“That jump of yours was rather elegant, Alexander, is there something you’d like to tell me?” Magnus smirks, hugging Alec around his shoulders, their feet touching as they tread water.

Alec’s smile brightens as he wraps his arms around Magnus’ waist. “Iz, Jace, and I used to compete with each other, the goal was to jump from the highest spot we could find, but then it changed to who could make the most badass, or elegant jumps.” 

“Of course you did.” Magnus grins and kisses Alec’s cheek, and Alec feels a lot warmer suddenly. 

“Mmm, so why here?” He caresses a strand of black hair from Magnus’ temple, his fingers settling on the back of his neck, lightly caressing his hairline.

“Isn’t it a spectacular sight? Just wait a bit longer, this time of year is special.” 

Magnus sounds mysterious, and Alec squints at him, but he knows he will be rewarded if he’s patient, and if he really wanted to know, Magnus would tell him, but he’s happy to wait and let Magnus successfully surprise him once more. 

“Then, let’s wait.” He pushes closer, dipping his head just right to meet Magnus’ lips, his tongue slipping straight into his mouth this time, his throat making a surprised noise as he feels the wet fabric of their shirts gone.

“Sorry, I will undress the rest of you properly, I promise.” Magnus looks as innocent as he does devilish, and not for the first time, is Alec completely stunned at how he makes it possible, as well as helplessly turned on. 

He hardly even cares as he tightens his grip on him, and kisses him fervently, the noise of the waterfall swallowing their sounds. 

Magnus is still treading water as Alec wraps his legs around him, and Magnus uses a touch of magic to keep them afloat as they slowly glide towards the shore, where he hoists Alec up onto a sun kissed, smooth rock, climbing into his lap while hardly breaking their kiss. 

There’s hot, damp skin beneath their fingertips, wet hair dropping water like tiny, cool flushes onto their bodies, hands stroking and scraping one another, their breaths increasingly labored, unwilling to part even momentarily. 

Alec comes out of the delirium that is Magnus for him, when he feels his face sprayed with water, blinking his eyes open, wondering how they got so close to the waterfall. He blinks again, tiny water droplets falling into his eyes as he looks up and realizes that it’s raining. 

“It seems rather unusual for a place like this, but it’s the rainy season right now.” 

Magnus smiles so lovely at him that Alec’s heart seems to stutter, unable to take his eyes off of him, until slightly heavier raindrops keep landing on his lashes, making them droop, his lids closing to prevent the wetness from disturbing his eyes. It’s a somewhat nice feeling, though. The rain is tepid, and delicate, a wet, silky sensation mingling with the slight tickle of his eyelashes on his skin, flickering for just a second as Magnus’ thumb caresses the line of his cheekbone so tenderly, his heart beats quicker, his whole being drawn closer towards him. 

“Alexander, open your eyes.” Magnus’ voice is a whisper, echoing inside Alec’s heart like an enchantment, compelled to listen, Magnus’ face a blurry vision until he manages to blink the rain from his eyes again. 

Magnus’ smile is breathtaking, gone too soon as he strains his neck to look behind him, “This is what I wanted to show you.” 

Alec follows the path Magnus’ eyes are leading, his own widening with wonder, his breath catching as he stares at the rainbow that has appeared, forming an arch right across the waterfall. He has never seen one this close, within the first minutes of its creation, and it’s miraculous. 

Another piece of natural magic Magnus keeps showing him, for no other reason than wanting to share these extraordinary moments with him, overwhelming him, tightening his chest and stomach, burning his throat and eyes with raw, all-consuming perception of how much Magnus loves him, how kind, and generous, and  _ good  _ his love is, and how he still hasn’t grasped why he of everyone in the universe should deserve it. 

Magnus has shifted to lean back against Alec’s chest, Alec’s arms closing around him, holding him until the heaviness of his emotions ebbs away, enabling him to speak. 

“It’s amazing, thank you, I’ll never forget it.” He murmurs against Magnus’ ear, kisses his earlobe, and his neck just below, squeezing him gently, the urgency to keep him this close always, building a painful pressure around his heart. 

“I’m glad. I want to show you everything beautiful in the world, so you, and me, too, will always be reminded of the wonderful parts of life, especially when we have to walk in darkness. I want to be something good for you, something you can hold onto when the burden gets too heavy. Because you’re my miracle, and I know you often don’t believe it, but you always pull me out of the obscurity of my life, my rage, my apathy, and my agony, even when you’re hurt and struggling yourself, and don’t understand what is happening inside my mind, you never let me down, and I hope that I will never let you down, either.” 

Alec can’t breathe, the words replaying inside his head, the shock, yet knowledge of this being Magnus’ truth, and his own, leaving him speechless, a lump short of choking him inside his throat. 

He cups Magnus’ face, a hot dash of liquid running and mixing with the raindrops on his cheek. He swallows, sucks in a breath, searching for words, and failing. 

He takes Magnus’ hand, places it on his chest where his heart is pounding the loudest he can remember, a sudden leap forward, pressing their mouths together, a silent sob between their lips, Magnus’ fingers trailing upwards, to the rune on Alec’s neck, tracing the familiar pattern where his skin feels minutely different, then cradles him into his arms to keep him as close as possible, their kiss embodying the entirety of the weight of their emotions, such that words could only pale against.   
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: The way cold glass fogs when you press your hand against it.
> 
> This is an angsty one, and I feel like it's connected to a wip but doesn't matter for now.

_ drip drip drip drip drip _

His eyes open, hazy senses starting to focus; on the dripping sound somewhere on his left, on the dark, unfamiliar place, the furniture strewn across the room, the large windows in front of him.

It’s nighttime, and the cold makes his bones shiver. 

He has no memory of how he got here, but he remembers being summoned.

By who, or what, he does not know.

He takes a few steps toward the window front. It looks like it’s been raining some time today, and when he squints his eyes, he notices the barely there crystallic patterns on the glass.

He reaches out a hand, pressing his fingertips against it, the icy sensation surging through his fingers, hand and wrist within an instant, and he thinks that soon he might go numb.

The glass fogs around his fingers, and the shape of his hand, as he presses fully against it. The core of his palm is emanating enough heat to expand the warmth over the surface, melting the crystals, leaving a wet film on every part of skin in contact with it. 

His vision blurs as he keeps staring at the coated glass, a light soreness thudding at his temple. He feels ungrounded as his fingers slip away, the heel of his hand cold and damp, leaving wet smear marks on the window as he’s losing grip. 

A sudden, shocked gasp pushes white, hot breath from his mouth as he pushes both hands against the glass, eyes wide, staring at three figures appearing down below the high building, walking towards it  _ (him?) _ across the dimly lit street. 

Clary is looking around while Jace’s expression is gravely serious and determined, and it’s only because of the rune pounding ever so lightly on his abdomen, that he becomes aware of the fear underlying his Parabatai’s fierce stance.

Isabelle is right on his heels, strong, but anxious, her snake staff drawn and ready to fight. But who are they expecting to find? 

His breath runs liquidized downwards the glass, and he steps sideways a little to better see, trying to find, and failing to get a better grip on the cold, moist window. 

His breath freezes inside of his lungs as the lights of a portal blind him, and his insides bristle against the realization what this means, battling the relief falling upon him as Magnus steps out into the street, the lights vanishing, his eyes seething with golden rage.

Alec wants to cry, but he watches as he hurries towards the others, talks to them for a moment, making him strain his ears to maybe catch a word, but all he can hear is the dripping in the otherwise eerie silence. 

He taps his spread hands against the glass, louder each time, trying to gain their attention, but even as they seem to be looking up and right at him, they don’t react, as if they cannot see. 

He’s pounding now, and screaming.

But,  _ why can’t he hear himself?  _

His hands fall to his sides, his body heaving, and he tries to speak, make a sound, his head feeling on the verge of imploding as he pushes out a single croaking sound, the effort leaving him breathless, his hands cold around his throat, unable to understand what’s happening to him.

He grabs a chair and smashes it against the glass, but the impact doesn’t leave a single crack. 

He tries again, and again, and again, smashing and smashing, but he cannot shatter the glass, can’t even fracture it.

Fear threatens to choke him, and he keeps moving around the room, to find the door, because every room has a door, and he must have come up here and entered through one. The walls are shabby, damaged, and wet, but hide no exit.

He tries to remember, his mind fogging with desperation as he can’t find a way out. He’s sweating but freezing, wheezing and shaking, and rushes back to the window, willing any one of them to notice him, help him. 

His mind empties suddenly, a light, ominous shudder crawling upwards his spine, and he knows there is someone,  _ something  _ behind it, the presence of the room palpably changing. 

His hands and legs are trembling, but he does his best to stay calm. He doesn’t have his stele, or his bow, his holster is empty, and his body feels brittle. But his mind is unwilling, unable to give up.

He turns, looks down, and tries not to succumb to the terror he feels gazing at the vastest darkness he’s ever seen, swirling just above the ground. 

He can feel it, invading his mind, his heart, his very soul, taking a hold of him, a magnetic pull, strengthening the more he struggles against it. 

He thinks of Jace, of Izzy, and Magnus, here, but  _ not close enough,  _ and he wants to tell them so much still,  _ needs _ to tell them, but his boots hit the glass behind him, his hands pressing against the cold, damp surface, his eyes staring, unblinking, his mouth sewn shut, terrified. 

At last, a scream tears from his throat as the darkness reaches him, and swallows him whole.

*

He can’t breathe, but he’s panting heavily, sitting up, his fingers stiff and sore, gripping some kind of fabric, the room dark, but somehow familiar, sweat’s running from his hair down over his skin, clinging to his back, repellently cold. 

His mind is in chaos; messy, torn fractures of memories and sensations overcoming him, overpowering, and dizzying. 

He moves off of the bed he recognizes, swaying as he walks, bumping against a piece of furniture, ignoring the sharp pain in his knee, then he’s by the window, his hands up and pressing against it, his eyes trying to see. 

The view, he knows. This room, he knows. The bed, he knows. He knows this place, and it’s safe here. But he’s alone.

He pushes off and rushes outside, through every room, looking for the person who should be here, somewhere, working, or reading, or cooking, or sleeping. 

Panic rises inside his chest, sweeping into his lungs, the longer he can’t find him. 

But then, suddenly, he stops, willing the rushing, and pounding in his ears to quiet down, amidst the tumult, a familiar sound. Magical.  _ Magnus.  _

He’s flooded with paralyzing relief, closing his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, silently chanting to himself words of comfort, tension falling from him, leaving him barely able to stand.

And then, he opens his eyes, and every sliver of hope and safety is replaced by bone-chilling dread, and disbelief.

And this time, he can’t even scream. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the prompt: 38. A person’s weight as they lie on top of you 
> 
> turned into parabatai angst (with a happy ending), malec hurt/comfort, love making
> 
> blood, canon typical violence, emotions emotions emotions

_ His lungs constricted painfully, and the breath was knocked out of him twice within a few seconds.  _

He knows he’s hyperventilating but can’t seem to stop, can’t control his body, can’t tell his lungs to calm down, and let him breathe properly. Blood and ichor is all over his clothes, and hands, some splotches dried on his face, and in his hair. 

No one cares about the blood on him, though, because none of it is his own. 

He can still feel the impact of his body. Jace is lying on a white stretcher a few meters from him, as he got pushed away forcefully when he wouldn’t - wasn’t able to let go of Jace. 

He doesn’t remember how they got back to the Institute, how he managed to let anyone know where they were, or what happened, or how Catarina got here so fast, but she is here, and she brought Dorothea, and someone said Ragnor is on his way, and Magnus--

He’s at a conference, an important one, but Alec can’t recall what it’s about, or even where it’s being held. He can’t focus on a single thing other than Jace’s body, overflowed with blood, still dripping to the floor, pooling down there, and the way he keeps twitching. 

Inside his head, a dam broke, rushing menacingly inside his ears, drowning out every other sound, but the choked breaths of his Parabatai. He can feel the burn of the wound, and smell the stench of it, the poison, working its way through his flesh, intoxicating his blood, a certain death bringer.

Alec’s heart feels as if it’s about to burst, and though he can hardly stand, he pushes himself up and rushes back to his Parabatai’s side. 

_ Jace’s eyes were staring at him, unbelieving, and panicked. Blood shot from his chest where the spear like claw from the creature had pierced his back, and cut right through him, sending him tumbling towards Alec who hadn’t been able to keep them both standing, hit the hard concrete floor, and was paralyzed by shock and fear, as Jace lay unmoving on top of him, blood spilling from his mouth, and the gash on his body. _

_ He felt twice as heavy as he should have been, making it impossible for Alec to move. He tried, he tried so hard, but he could barely breathe, feeling the blood soaking through his clothes, hot and thick on his own skin, for a moment thinking Jace was dead, and he was left without even a chance to try and save him, feeling their bond weakening, his soul screaming unearthly.  _

_ He thought he would die right there with him, the creature hovering above them. _

_ And then… and then… _

“Alexander!” 

Alec looks up alarmed, hot tears burning in his eyes when they fall on Magnus, his sorrow-stricken expression a stark contrast to his impeccable appearance, a memory of him standing naked in their bedroom while asking Alec to help him choose a suit this morning, flashing through his mind. 

They couldn’t have known. 

“Magnus! Take him away from here, quickly!” 

Alec’s head shoots to his left, staring at Ragnor whose presence completely slipped his mind, his words sounding incredulous to his ears.

He feels Magnus’ hands on both of his upper arms suddenly, his body behind him, and he jerks around, locking eyes with him, his head too unhinged, thoughts too numerous and fractured, to be able to reach his mouth, and he turns back to look at Jace, bloody, and filthy, ashen skin, and an open wound, and three colors of magic, and voices, and the sensation of being sucked away, pulled into the oblivion of a magic portal, and he yells, and sways, his head spinning, recognizing the loft suddenly.

They made him leave, they really took him away from his Parabatai. 

The terror of the experience and fear for Jace’s life turn into rage that gives him new energy, and he strides back and forth, ranting, demanding that Magnus take him back instantly, that he has no right to keep him away, that Jace might die and he has to be by his side, all the while tormented by the memories.

_ They never saw it coming, they never saw one like it before, they had no chance to react in time.  _

_ Alec gazed up at the creature, frozen, not a single thought in his mind, but that he had to DO something… anything, to not die, and more importantly, to get Jace to safety. _

_ His bow and quiver were trapped beneath him, painfully pressing into his back, and all the shuffling he managed wasn’t enough to free himself, or his weapons. But he could still move one of his arms, and by instinct, he grabbed behind him, feeling for the one arrow that the rational part of his brain told him was his only chance to survive.  _

_ He felt the tip of it, slightly smoother than all the others, and he drew it out, imbued the tip in Jace’s blood, and waited for the moment the creature was close enough, garnered all of his strength into his arm, and speared its eye. _

_ The screeching sound almost burst his eardrums, and it took half a minute before it burst and ichor spilled all over them, letting Alec know any other arrow but the one Magnus magically enhanced for him, wouldn’t have killed it.  _

_ But at that moment nothing else mattered but saving Jace. _

Alec looks like a wounded, distressed animal, trapped inside a cage, and Magnus isn’t sure what to do to calm him down. He’s stunned that Alec has this kind of strength left, but he also knows what exceptional situations can do to people, and Alec’s situation is not one many have had to experience.

He’s not even sure that separating him from Jace was the best solution, but Cat, Dot, and Ragnor were adamant, and it’s true that they can focus better on saving Jace without Alec panicking right next to them. 

So it’s on him to find a way to console him, but Alec doesn’t even seem to hear him when he tries to speak to him, and when he takes his arm, to will him to slow down, he just pushes away from Magnus, getting even more agitated. 

“Alexander, please, let’s at least get you out of these clothes and clean you up, I promise you Jace is getting every possible care-” 

Alec is shaking his head, his eyes shut tightly, his bloody, dirty fingers pulling on strands of bloody, dirty hair, and Magnus’ heart breaks all over for him as he watches him helplessly, suddenly aware of him murmuring something.

He approaches him slowly and quietly, to listen more closely, his insides freezing painfully when he understands the words, anxiousness gnawing at the pit of his stomach, every nerve tense like a bow strung short of ripping.

“It should have been me, it’s all my fault, it should have been me.” 

Magnus knows Alec is out of his mind with trauma, worry, and fear, and whatever painful impact their bond has on him right now, but he also knows about his heart-rendering inclination to self-sacrifice and self-harm, and he would blame himself no matter whose fault it was. 

Magnus is certain it wasn’t theirs, they were horribly unlucky and unprepared, and though he doesn’t know which demonic creature attacked them, yet, he knows it must be some new, sinister creation of his father’s, and he will have to find a way to deal with him, once and for all, but right now, he  _ needs _ to help Alexander.

He shuts his eyes, preparing himself for the shouting and struggling, his body steadfast behind Alec’s, his arms enclosing him tightly, making it impossible for Alec to free himself in his weakened state.

Magnus breaks a little more when the yelling upholds merely a few seconds before Alec’s body sags heavily, sobs tearing from his mouth, right through Magnus. 

He holds him as the sun sets outside, light streaming into the dimly lit room through the balcony doors, speaking lowly into Alec’s neck, not daring to loosen his embrace just yet. 

“It’s going to be okay, Alexander. Jace will be alright,” and “Will you come to the bathroom with me to clean you up?” 

He’s mildly relieved when Alec nods, his sobs subsided into meek sniffles, and Magnus lets go of him reluctantly, following his heavy steps into their bedroom. 

Another wave of sickening nerves crawls over his skin when Alec halts suddenly, his face torn, his tear-glistening eyes staring ahead, as if they were seeing something Magnus cannot. 

Magnus feels a sense of crushing helplessness. 

Alec’s hands shoot up into his hair, gripping it hard enough to tear it out, his face contorted in silent agony, before a blood-curdling scream echos inside of Magnus’ mind torturously, and he almost can’t react at all, but his body moves and takes Alec down with him as they slump onto the bed, his hands trying to unfurl Alec’s fingers, stiff like stone, his eyes filling with angry tears.

They shouldn’t have been alone, they shouldn’t have to suffer like this, they should have been better protected. By  _ him. _

He wasn’t there, and now Jace might die, and Alexander might never recover from this. He knows there is no  _ might _ involved in it. Their bond isn’t just special because they’re Parabatai, but because they’re Alec and Jace. It took him some time to realize, but it’s undeniably true. Despite their vast inherent differences, how they argue, and fight, even hurt each other deliberately at times, their essence is so deeply interwoven, they are closer than any other pair of Parabatai Magnus has ever known, and they suffer all the more for it.

And Magnus feels so guilty for it, for still not having managed to ban Asmodeus for all eternity, leaving him to cause havoc, and hurt the people he loves most, because of  _ him. _

He curses himself for being self-centered, shoves these thoughts from his mind, and huffs an exerted breath as he finally manages to release Alec’s hands, keeping them pressed into the pillows as Alec’s eyes stare up at him, a cold shiver running through Magnus’ chest, a tightness making it hard to breathe. 

He doesn’t know what Alec has seen, is still seeing inside his mind, but the forlorn terror in his eyes is a kind of agony Magnus never saw coming. 

And he doesn’t know what to  _ do.  _ But he can’t let him down any more than he already feels he has. 

“Is he dead? Tell me the truth.” 

Magnus freezes, his eyes widening, Alec’s whispered words ringing in his ears like corroding screams.

He can’t be. Alec would know? But maybe he’s too out of it. Or maybe that reaction earlier means… no. No. No! He can’t be dead. He can’t be. 

Magnus shifts up a little, his hand awkwardly moving along Alec’s torso, pushing his jacket out of the way, and his top up to touch his rune there. 

“You can still feel him, right? Try to focus.” Magnus is torn equally with hope and fear, holding his breath as Alec’s mind seems to slowly understand what he wants from him.

Alec has never really been able to comprehend how the bond works, because there is nothing in the world he could compare it to. He took it as it was, something that simply exists, no questions asked. 

He has never been in pain like this, every sense clouded and rushed, unable to think rationally, but when Magnus’ words, and his touch, seep through, and clear his head a little, he understands. 

But he feels nothing, and he wants to scream, and never stop, and throw himself into the abyss that’s opened up inside of him, but then, the faintest sense of  _ something _ , of another’s heartbeat, slow, and weak, but there. He can feel it, he can feel him. He’s alive, and there’s still something to hold onto, to reach and fight for. 

A pair of golden eyes are gazing down at him, and he’s drowning in sensations, emotions, relieving, and oppressing, alleviating, and guilt-stricken.

“He’s alive,” he manages to rasp, licking over his lips, tasting bitter, of blood, and something more vile. He thinks he might never forget the smell of Jace’s blood, or the taste of it, or the image of his lifeless face.

Magnus exhales, and nods, moving his hand towards Alexander’s face, caressing his temple and cheekbone with his thumb with such tenderness he wishes he could fill Alexander with to keep him unharmed forever from this moment on. 

Hot tears spill from Alec’s eyes, adding to the stains on his dirty, blood covered skin. 

“He’s going to be okay.” Magnus almost cries with him, but instead, he magics on the few candles on the nightstand, and a warm, wet cloth into his hand, and begins to wash Alexander’s fingers that are covered in dried blood and ichor, an attempt to calm himself, and keep his mind occupied.

Alec’s barely blinking, watching him so intently shivers keep shaking Magnus’ core, but he doesn’t say anything, makes sure the cloth stays warm, and clean, and washes the filth from his face, and hair next.

Alec’s mind is dazed with memories he wants to suppress, the only distraction strong enough, Magnus’ face. Always beautiful, and now, compassionate, sad, and gentle, and strong. Always strong for him. Always  _ for him. _

He shuts his eyes, concentrating on the warmth on his face, the care radiating through every movement, allowing himself to relax just a fraction.

His whole body jerks suddenly as he gasps, violent images shocking his vulnerable mind, his eyes open wide, his breath rigid as he’s gripping Magnus’ upper arms so tightly it must hurt, but he can’t help it. 

“Shhh, Alexander, it’s okay, you’re okay, and Jace will be okay. They’re doing everything they can, I promise you.” 

Alec remembers now. Jace is at the Institute, with Ragnor, Catarina, and Dorothea. And everyone else is there, waiting, outside, waiting for news, desperately hoping for good news. He should be there, but guilty tears roll down his temples as he realizes he’s glad he’s here, with Magnus. He shouldn’t be, but he is. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so endlessly sorry.” 

Magnus freezes, Alec’s tear-filled voice cutting through his insides like a knife made of burning ice. He can’t speak, and shakes his head weakly, leans his forehead against Alec’s, and shuts his eyes, breathing through the pain. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing’s your fault. You brought him home, you looked after him. You killed the demon, and called Isabelle. You did everything right, everything you could. And now he has a real chance, he just needs to keep fighting, and he will, he always does, just like you. You never stop fighting, neither of you. You will be okay, both of you.” 

_ Because you have to be. _

He couldn’t bear any other outcome, none of them could. Everything they’ve been through, they deserve better, they deserve so much more than this life full of trauma, pain, and sacrifice. And Magnus is determined to help give it to them, every single one of his new family. 

“I called Iz? I don’t remember, I only, there’s only blood… and Jace… he didn’t move, and I couldn’t move, and I didn’t know, I thought we would die, and I wasn’t fast enough, I couldn’t save him.” 

Magnus shifts his head to look into Alec’s eyes, still overflowing with tears, his thumbs caressing the warm liquid from his temples. 

“You did save him, love, you did. There was nothing else you could have done. It’s not your fault that that demon attacked you, it’s-- I promise I’ll deal with it later, just believe me. Trust me, you did good, you did so good.” 

Magnus can barely stop his own tears now, his forehead pressed on Alec’s once again, his hands around his neck, holding onto him, willing every ounce of conviction and love he has into Alexander. 

Alec sobs quietly, his fingers curling and uncurling on Magnus’ shoulder blades, fighting the dizziness inside his head, becoming aware of Magnus’ body pressing him down, but he doesn’t feel trapped, or suffocating. He feels grounded, and safe.

His chest is filled with warmth, but the clothes between them, especially his filthy, stiff jacket and top, and his holster, are poking awkwardly into his skin, and he wants rid of them. 

Magnus becomes aware of Alec’s discomfort, thinking it’s his own body and weight, but soon understands, and, after his eyes quietly gained Alec’s permission, magics them all but his pants away, not wanting him to feel more vulnerable and exposed than he already must.

When Alec reaches for the cloth, Magnus intercepts quickly. “Let me do it, please.” 

Alec nods, and relaxes, and Magnus is glad to be able to do this for him as he washes his shoulders, arms, and chest, covered with Jace’s dried blood. So much blood. Magnus doesn’t want to think, but he, too, can’t shake the image of him lying there, oozing with blood, barely alive.  _ But alive. _

“Why didn’t you stay and help them? What if they need more magic?” 

Magnus halts in his movement abruptly as Alec’s fingers clench around his wrist, his expression filled with new fear.

“There’s nothing more I could do than these three, trust me, and if they need more strength, you have a whole Institute full of Shadowhunters willing to give what they can. I promise you they’re doing everything possible.” 

He feels guilty, though he knows Alec isn’t actually accusing him, and if he could have done something his friends couldn’t, he would have, of course, without a doubt. But he needed to take care of Alexander. Jace would have wanted him to, he’s at least sure of that. 

Alec’s tension eases after a moment, and he lets go of Magnus’ wrist, cupping his face instead, running his thumb across his cheek, a trace of remoistened blood visible.

He stares at it, the color and smell engraved inside him forever. “I’m sorry.” A fresh tear spills from his eye, and he can’t hold it back, can’t hold the guilt, or need to apologize, or any of his emotions that are overpowering him once more. 

Magnus’ chest aches fiercely, struggling with words he could console his love with. He finds none, and does the only other thing he hopes will soothe Alec, a soft press of lips against lips. 

He pulls back, sizing his reaction, the tiniest dart of Alec’s face towards him, pulling him back like a magnet, the underlying fear of doing the wrong thing ebbing away as he kisses him with the same tenderness he’s still touching him with, wishing he could use his magic now to take it all away, knowing some things can’t be made okay even with his powers. 

The sentience of the other half of his soul ever present, Alec allows himself to let go, accepting Magnus’ devotion to him, his never ending care, and love. 

His fingers slide through Magnus’ hair, across his shoulders and arms, tugging on his clothes, even unconsciously wanting them gone, wanting to feel more, more warmth, more skin, more Magnus. All of him, all of his heart, all of his compassion, all of his adoration. All of himself he’s willingly giving to Alec. 

And in this very moment, Alec seems to realize that he is giving all of himself to Magnus, which he has always wanted, always hoped he could, always feeling torn in so many directions, so many people to take care of, and love. But suddenly he knows that that makes it  _ more  _ of himself to give to Magnus, even another part of another’s soul. He doesn’t know how it’s possible, but he takes it as another fact, something that just  _ is.  _

He has never _ loved more with all that he is _ than in this very moment. 

Magnus feels Alec’s hands pulling on his clothes, and doesn’t hesitate to make them both touch skin against skin. 

His fingers are caressing every accessible space between them, carding through Alec’s damp hair, along the veins of his neck, the dip of his collarbones, over his ribs, and hips, the smooth plains of skin, and the rougher, hairy ones. 

He’s aware of Alec’s arms and legs around him, keeping him close as if he was afraid he’d leave if he let go, and Alec’s eyes open, watching him as if he were afraid to close them, and he must be, of the images inside his mind.

Magnus caresses  _ their  _ rune especially gingerly, tiny, soft sparks of light blue against his fingertips, feeling miniscule bumps all across Alec’s skin, quiet breaths, and sweet moans breathing against his mouth, lips kissed red and slightly swollen, shiny from his tongue lapping against them, dipping inside his mouth, gentle and loving, keeping the ardent fire seething inside him at bay, only here to give as much as Alexander wants, and can handle; comfort, solace, safety. 

Alec mustn’t shut his eyes, needing to see Magnus’ face, needing to feel his touch, breathe his breath, and disrupt the darkness, the desperation, the clambering fear, threatening to take hold of him again.

He needs his body to weigh him down, hot skin and hard muscles, pressing him into the soft mattress, steadying him, controlling him, confining him in the safest possible space, dulling and mending his frightened mind, his battered body, his sorrowing heart, and pining soul. 

He needs his mouth, speaking silently through warm, blissful kisses, his hands holding all the power in the world, stroking every part of him with stunning tenderness that never ceases to make him cry. He can’t stop crying, or tightening his arms and legs around Magnus like a vice, even though he may hurt him, or beg him with every fibre of his being to never stop loving him, putting him first, giving himself over wholly. 

Magnus feels the nuances of Alec’s body, as well as his emotions, changing, wishing he could melt into him, never ever part again. Their bodies have been grinding lightly, soft pleasure trickling through them, now shifting into longing fervency. 

Magnus groans into Alec’s mouth, his fingers dug into Magnus, grazing sorely, but pleasurably across his skin, a sheen of sweat between them, their shared, burning want to breach the only barrier still between them. 

Alec won’t give him even an inch of space more as Magnus opens him up as much as he can, careful as he joins Alec’s body with his own, even when Alec’s hands are pushing into his ass, urging him on, their breaths harsh with need, their looks intense, locked on each other’s face. 

Magnus moves and Alec’s hands loosen, stroking languidly over the back of his thighs, the clefts below his asscheeks, and upwards, thorough to touch every inch of him as they move as one, kissing slickly between gazing into one another’s eyes with the same, complete understanding of everything they are, because of themselves, because of everyone they love, because of each other, and what it means to be all of that, and how lucky they are to suffer so harshly, for loving so profoundly. 

Their moans mingle like their tears, pleasure rippling through them, connecting, binding, eyes unclosed, sweat trickling along their faces, their bodies shiny with it, heat swarming in their bellies, bursting with delirious pleasure, staying together, molten, panting, minds wonderfully hazy. 

Magnus kisses all over his face, unable to stop, kisses his lips a dozen more times, softly, sweetly, before he is allowed to shift a little, to lie on Alec more comfortably, his head tucked beneath Alec’s chin, Alec’s hands caressing his hair and neck, and the small of his back, Magnus’ arms holding his middle. 

They’re quiet, watching the candlelight flicker against the walls and ceiling, and Magnus can feel, and hear, Alec’s heartbeat, and he can imagine - though whether it’s only imagination, he can’t even be sure of - feeling Jace’s heartbeat, as well. A kind of wonderful magic that’s still mysterious to him, and he never understood how its worth made up for its bearers’ sacrifices, until now.

Alec’s listening, to the beating of Magnus’ strong, steady heart, his soft breaths, and the beat of another heart, a little stronger than before - if he can trust himself. He has to trust in  _ him. _

The candles burnt down, and dawn is rising outside, and Magnus is still right here, warming him, consoling him in every way he now knows possible, is worthy of, and allowed to have, and his hands won’t rest, needing to feel, to talk for him of how beautiful he is, his heart above all else, and how amazed he still is, and always will be, that Magnus gave it to him. 

He closes his eyes eventually, better able to cope with the memories now, but his body keeps thrumming faintly, perceptive of any change, holding Magnus, holding Jace intangibly inside his soul. 

His eyes open suddenly, and Magnus must have felt something, too, as he moves up, their eyes meeting.

“I think he’s awake.” Alec hopes it’s not some trick, or wishful thinking, but their phones go off simultaneously, startling them. 

Izzy and Clary are by Jace’s side as Magnus and Alec arrive. Alec’s eyes are red and swollen, and when he sees Jace’s eyes open, shifting towards him, fresh tears threaten to fall. 

Izzy smiles teary-eyed and strokes along his arm before she moves to give him space, and he wants to say a thousand things as he takes in every inch of Jace’s face, still pale, but not as lifeless as before, not ashen like the sheet he’s covered with. 

Jace smiles and Alec loses it, tears dropping from his eyes into Jace’s hair as he bends over him and gathers him into his arms as tightly as he dares, feeling Jace’s hands lightly squeezing his arms. 

Clary’s tear-stained face swims into view as he opens his eyes, a smiling sob escaping his lips, and he lets her caress a few of his tears from his cheeks before he moves back, keeping one of Jace’s hands in his, the other firmly back in Clary’s.

“I’m so… glad you’re okay, I…” He can’t get the words out, his throat clogged up too heavily, and he turns to Magnus as he feels his hand on the small of his back, his other hand coming to lie over his and Jace’s. 

“We’re extremely thankful you’re back with us.” 

Jace smiles, looking utterly exhausted, and how could he not, having only just escaped death’s doorstep. 

“I’m really glad I’m not dead, as well.” His voice doesn’t quite sound like his, too feeble, yet none of them could miss the teasing tone. 

“Please thank them for me, I don’t know where they went.” Jace looks to Clary, and Izzy, an arm around her, questioningly.

“Cat, Dot, and Ragnor went to rest. They literally poured all of their magic and potions into saving you, and Clary and I helped as much as we could.” 

Jace nods a little and turns back to look at Alec and Magnus. “Thank you.” 

Alec shakes his head, feeling as if his legs might give in, hating how weak and lost he still feels when the memories of what happened overwhelm him once more. 

“Yes, Alec, you saved me, too, I know it, I felt it. And sorry for just passing out on you like that, I owe you one.” He smirks a little, and Alec wipes his eyes, smiling a bit, not knowing whether he just wants to break down and cry, or laugh. 

“And thank you, too, for taking care of him.” Magnus feels Jace’s eyes on him, as if they could see right inside him, as if he  _ knows _ , but it doesn’t bother him, he knows how special they are, after all, and he feels more and more grateful for belonging here, with these extraordinary people. 

“You’re very welcome. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” He looks at Alec, and Jace, gratitude pouring from their teary eyes, and he meets Clary’s, and Isabelle’s, as well, because they, too, belong to him, to each other, and he will do anything for each of them, as they would for him. 

The sacrifices they’ve all had to make, and will have to make in the future, are terrible and plenty, but their love, devotion, and endurance, will always prevail, and make it worthwhile. 

He can feel it inside himself, a part of him awakened he never knew before, because of them, and he can’t explain it, but he takes it as something that simply  _ is,  _ as he smiles a little, surprised when Jace tugs on his hand, his arm slipping carefully around Magnus as he leans over him, understanding in their eyes that can’t be spoken, only felt inside their souls.

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Your bed after travelling
> 
> malec loving

Magnus exits the portal with unsteady steps, drops his suitcase, and falls right into bed with a soft groan, his fingers instantly curling around the creaminess beneath him. 

His cheek pressed into the sheets, the familiarity of the mattress giving way under his weight, spending a sense of welcoming him. He breathes in, and out, slowly, and pleasurably, as if exchanging the strange, unwanted air in his lungs with trusted solace.

He missed this, he missed his home, the way it smells and feels, safe and comforting.

But he’s missing the weight, heat, and smell of another body. He shifts almost unconsciously, searching for the spot where Alec’s scent is predominant, inhaling him deeply, fervent sensations filling his senses wholly.

His heart aches in that endless wonder of overwhelming affection, Alec’s lingering presence consumes him with, and he’d never change his life to a time he didn’t have him by his side, didn’t  _ feel  _ so much it keeps threatening to undo him. 

He will never choose oblivion, or apathy, not as long as there is hope for them. 

Magnus furls into himself, imagining Alec’s arms around him, holding him, his breath on his neck, his lips on his skin, his voice raspy and sweet in his ears, spilling shivers all through him.

His head feels hazy and heavy, his eyelids firmly closed, the tension he accumulated in his body in the last days fading gradually, now he can relax, and let his guard down. 

Sleep takes him gladly. 

~~~

Something jerks him awake, his mind too dazed to grasp a clear thought, for a mere second fear gripping him, ebbing away swiftly as he’s covered by a sense of intimacy, a body he’d recognize in any state of mind, pressing warmly against his back.

A gentle caress along his jaw, a tender kiss on the nape of his neck, and a voice he’d know in an endless sea of voices, lull him into warm security.

“You’re so tired, you didn’t even undress yourself. Let me.” 

The smile is evident in Alec’s unique timbre, and Magnus’ body is pliant as he’s carefully moved around, layer after layer of clothing taken from him, exposed skin rewarded with fingers’ tender touches, and lips’ lovely kisses, goosebumps prickling along his skin as the comforting warmth disappears.

Only for a moment, before the sanctuary of Alec’s arms envelops him, skin on skin, the bed cover pulled up around them, as he intuitively leans into him, seeking his heat, his smell, his heartbeat, the care he always gives in abandon.

A fond smile on his lips grazes Alec’s chest, one arm folded between them, the other wrapped around his love’s back, their legs entwined, complacent and blissful his sigh. 

“Sweet dreams, Magnus.” 

A kiss on his hair, sparing his last thought to how grateful and fortunate he is to be able to come home to him, every time.

  
  



End file.
